


Stardust

by rsk110



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 06:51:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsk110/pseuds/rsk110
Summary: Playboy Aiba Masaki is in love with his best friend, Sakurai Sho, who has a secret.  He has a box full of things called Stardust, always talking about them but never revealing the secret behind them.[Repost after deleting livejournal comm masaki_x.  This fic was written in winter 2011 and posted Jan 2012.  The second part was written later on as part of request fills.  I don't have the date for this fic because I don't have the original doc any longer.  I'm going to guess late 2012 or early 2013.]





	1. Stardust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read end notes for warnings and explanations.

Stardust

  

 

  

It really was magic…

…Your Stardust…

  

“It’s really magic,” he said to me, but never _showed_ me.  “I’ve collected so much.  It’s magic, I tell you.”

I could only sneer, chuckle, anything to show him I was listening, but I didn’t believe him.  He went on anyway, talking about the stars and Stardust.  But I didn’t much care about them and never believed there was anything on this Earth of magical dust.

 “They can do anything.  Heal sicknesses, make flowers bloom in the winter time, bring back the dead – _anything._   They’re _magic.”_

When he said that, I wanted to punch him or slap him across the face.  Bring back the dead…?  Was he kidding me?  Was he joking around?  Instead, I just got up and out of the seat, almost kicking over the chair.  Faces turned to look at me, at my fist slamming down on the cheap rickety old cafeteria table top.  He watched me like I hadn’t done anything, even holding that smile in that way which had me crazy every time I saw him.

He gave me that face because he didn’t know the truth.  No one knew.

“Aiba kun?”  He said my name in that curious tone, because he didn’t understand.  All he cared about was his damned Stardust.  He was opening his lips to call me again.  Before he could, I grabbed my lunch tray off the table.  No one was staring at this point (I hoped).  I walked off to dispose of the crappy lunch the school served.

He followed me, calling my name again.

“Aiba kun~”

“Sorry,” I responded, plastering a smile on my face.  “I need a cigarette bad.”

“Okay,” he smiled genuinely, melting away all the hate that had boiled up.

I was almost disgusted at myself for even having a moment where I wanted to do something horrible to him.  But then, I was disgusted at myself for having him with me as a friend, anyway.  Some friends (friends?) who knew about me and my past and my current situation called me a masochist whenever they saw me with him.  Maybe they were right.  Maybe I was just psyching myself up for some kind of blow.

I stubbed the cigarette butt under my sole.  As I walked away, I saw him pick up the flattened butt and toss it into the trash bin.  I wanted to yell at him.  But I didn’t do that either.  My eyes were watering; I was hoping it was just the smoke or the dry heat.  I had to keep walking, wanting to distance myself from the memories daring to surface.  Something like, _Masaki, you should pick up your trash_ …

“Masaki~ Wait~”

 

…

  

“Fu—ck—“  was the first word I could think of and the first word out of my scratchy throat.  I looked to my right and saw the body still lying there.

“Fuck—“  I groaned, raising my sore torso.  I made sure who-ever-it-was was sleeping before I could move.  Well, it didn’t matter much if he was or not.  We’ve done nothing anyway but fuck.  _Ugh._   That fucking word again…

“Fuck.” It was short.  I reached for the underpants at the foot of the bed, making sure they were actually mine, and pulled them on.  My skin was unpleasantly sticky and hot so the want for a shower was dire.  But the want to get out of there was a bigger issue to me, so I started gathering my clothes from the floor.

“Leaving so soon?” The man turned, his face looking tired.  But his lips were turned up.

“Yeah.  I’ve got… stuff to do.”  Even though the words ‘sure am’ or more specifically ‘what the fuck do I have to stick around for’ surfaced on my brain, I thought I should at least be nice.  He wasn’t half bad looking – but not really my type.  Well, not enough to stick around all morning for.

“It was fun last night.  And you were…” he paused, searching for the right words.

“That good?”

“Oh yeah.  I haven’t been fucked like that in…  It’s been too long.”

I suppose I should have said it was good, too, if only I could remember anything.  So I started dressing instead, but not before giving him the half-smile all the guys creamed their pants for.  Except for _him…_   the Stardust boy…

“I don’t suppose I’d ever see you again like this, right?”

“Mmm…  Why do you say that?”

“Because even guys who are half the looker you are and half as good a fuck say that.”

I had to laugh.  This kid was smart.  Young but smart.  I liked wit, at least that’s what I told myself, even though I’d spend more time with that dull-witted, nonsense driven…

“So… Here’s my number.  But if you’re gonna toss it, do it outside, okay?  I have _some_ feelings, you know?”

I liked the way his thin arms curved around to his shoulders, the way his mouth was shaped, the small sigh he let out after each sentence.  So I put the post-it in my pocket, bent down to kiss his mouth.  He was soft and warm and opened up for the kiss easily.  I could only guess that I had a good time last night but I didn’t want it to lead into a relationship.  Perhaps this kid was smart enough to know the difference.

I took the post-it pad and jotted down my number.  “Here.  Call me if you’re lonely.”

He smiled widely.  He held the post-it in both hands.  “Do you even remember my name?”

“No.”  At least I was honest, even if I was an asshole.

“Figured as much.”

“Do you know mine?”

“Aiba Masaki.  Everyone knows your name, sweetheart.”

I pulled on my shirt.  The clock beside the bed read six fourteen.  I had to get home and I didn’t know where I was and how long it would take.  If he didn’t want to tell me his name, that was fine.  I checked to see if my wallet was intact and found my watch phone and keys on the bedside table.  Habit.

“Gotta go.”

“Right.  Sunday.”

“What are you, my stalker?”

“Everyone knows about you, Aiba _kun.”_

The emphasis on the _kun_ bothered me, so I began to think, maybe this kid wasn’t as smart as he presented himself to be.

“And your Sakurai kun – or should I say, Sho chan—?”

“Fuck you.”

“You already did that.”

“Yeah, and it was great.  Hey, see you around, okay?”

“Whatever.”  The kid crumpled the post-it with my number and tossed it into the wastebasket.  It landed on the used condoms with my come in them.

“Give me a call when you get lonely, Aiba kun.  Maybe I’ll let you fuck me again.  I’ll even let you call me Sho chan again!”

I gave him half a sneer and slammed the door behind me.

  

…

 

Luckily, I knew the area and I knew where the subway stop was.  So I reached home at exactly seven, even after stopping by the market on the way.  Just as I figured, he was walking towards my little house, with the little beat up red backpack on his shoulders.

“Sho chan!”

He turned, his eyes scrunching a little to see against the bright morning sun behind me.  It was Sunday and seven in the morning.  I thought, who else would be calling you, Sho chan?

“Aiba kun~  Good morning.”

He waited.  I caught up, showing him the plastic bags with the half dozen eggs, fresh loaf of bread and the carton of whole milk.  It always amazed me; how he’d smile like that each time I showed him…  And how he could never suspect that when someone was up at seven in the morning was not because he was an early-riser, but because he had run away from a one-night stand…  And I was even wearing the same clothes from last night when I had dinner at his apartment, despite the shirt being dirtier and my skin reeking of sex.  But Sho didn’t notice the difference.

“What’s that?” I asked.  He only carried his backpack usually.  But he had a box with him today, a small one the size of a short stack of textbooks.  He carried it in both arms, cradling it preciously.

“It’s my secret box—“

“Oh?  Then why are you carrying it around like that?”

“Aiba kun~  Can I keep this with you?  It’s only for a little while.”

“Well—“  Then I remembered all the empty spaces in my house.  My house, quite a regular family house, built in the early nineties when we moved into the city during the country’s prosperity, three bedrooms, a nice bath, cosy living room and the kitchen where Mom used to make us French toast on Sunday mornings…  Now all empty.  Even the living room was void of furniture; only the pale shadow of where all the stuff used to be like the clock, the TV, the sofa, outlined in faint tar stains because Dad used to smoke in there...  “Yeah.  I have space.”

“But you have nowhere to _hide_ this.”

“I think it’ll fit behind my bed.”

Sho seemed to think about the proposition, and nodded his head.  Then he added, “Only if your butt doesn’t crush it!”

  

…

 

I watched Sho curled up to take his nap on my bed.  Since it was a single and there was nowhere else to sit, I had to lean on the empty wall across the mattress.

Even to me, my room was pathetic.  Few clothing pieces lay next to the mattress on the floor.  There were books stacked along the wall for school.  Next to that was a milk crate full of things – just _things_ – that I just couldn’t throw away.  There was a closet with clothes, shoes, and a few more things I couldn’t get rid of just yet.  The wooden bat which was split when I hit a homerun for the first time during the interschool league with splinters still sticking out from it, my first mitt from elementary school which I had often used in playing catch-ball with Dad and then brother, my high school uniform and my brother’s middle school one just a little smaller than mine and Dad’s just a little old-fashioned but clean, the silk kimono with a blue iris print Mom owned and worn only once…  Now there was one more box lying in the middle of the floor next to Sho’s red backpack.

Since there was nothing else to do with Sho sleeping, I pulled the box towards me.  He’d mumbled ‘Aiba kun, don’t open it’ sleepily.  I didn’t want to upset him, but I thought I could look at what I’m going to keep in my house, at the least.

It wasn’t heavy – the weight of a couple of hardbound books.  I shook it experimentally and it shuffled small noises.  Nothing seemed fragile in there.  It wasn’t bound with tape or anything – just a regular old cardboard box.  I glimpsed at Sho to make sure he was still sleeping.  I opened the flaps.  It felt like opening a treasure chest.

Perhaps it would show me all of Sho chan’s secrets.

I had met Sho sometime in the first semester of college.  To be honest, at first, I was trying to pick him up because I was dying to find what I called ‘one night partner’ and his face was pretty.  When I brought him home, he didn’t even comment on the lack of furniture in the house, like most.  He didn’t ask questions.  But I didn’t end up fucking him like I had planned to.  We were on my roof, him staring up into the sky all night.  ‘Where are all the stars?’  He said what I had been thinking.  ‘This is the middle of Tokyo and—‘ I replied.

‘Yeah… I know.’

Sakurai Sho…  What a weirdo…  I thought.  And I chucked it from my brains.  Not everyone was experienced in sex, I consoled myself.  The school didn’t exactly have a course called Gay Fucking 101 to teach the ways of joyful man-on-man sex.  The closest I thought was Homosexual Literature 201 – and it almost was.

‘Aiba kun~’  I couldn’t exactly ignore him.  Just his face drew attention to him (though he didn’t know it) and his smile had everyone drooling.  It made me glad to be the one receiving the smile – and jealousy – like when I had the best batting average in high school or when I broke the district’s records…  Not the faces of pity and empty sympathy after the incident…  It started around then, I thought.  He and I just started hanging out because I liked the look when Sho was with me.  And…

It was the way he said, ‘Aiba kun~’

It was the way I couldn’t just _fuck_ him…

It was the way he smiled at me.  It would always remind me of when everything was…  Normal.  By what standards, I had no idea…  But just…  fucking…  ‘Normal’.

The first thing I saw inside the four flaps was another cardboard box, smaller, fitting snugly.  There was a post-it stuck to the smaller box.  It said, ‘I knew you would look!  You broke your promise!  Don’t open Sho chan’s secret box!!’

My laughter came out like opening a soda can.  I thought, You forgot to make me promise not to look.  But I stopped bothering to open the box.  If it was so goddamn important that he couldn’t let me see, well, let it be that way.

Sho’s post-it reminded me of the phone number from last night’s one-night-partner still in my pocket.  I yanked it out, didn’t look at it, crumpled it up in my hand and tossed it into a corner.

I pulled my shirt off and threw it in with the rest of what I presumed dirty clothes.  I contemplated on showering, but fatigue suddenly overwhelmed me.  I pushed Sho to one side with my foot, though he didn’t move over at all.  I leaned down, getting dangerously close to his face.  He smelled like the breakfast we made together and something else so sweet, maybe like the way this house used to feel.

“Sho chan…  You have to make room…  I want a nap, too,” I whispered into his ear.

Sho moaned, shifting over as far as he could go into the single mattress and the wall.  I got in, the mattress hot under my skin.  The single blanket I owned was rolled around Sho’s body.  But all I needed to do was wait a few minutes.

“Aiba kun~”

Or a few seconds…

“—ba chan~”

Sho’s body was now almost on top of me.  His face lay on my chest.  I didn’t mind him drooling all over me or his hands unintentionally tickling my side.  I could even handle my dick getting unbearably hard inside my jeans.  I could breathe and close my eyes and go to sleep without thinking about shoving my cock inside his perfect, tight ass, if I concentrated.

“Nnn—Masaki—“

But when he said my name in his sleep…  My fucking _first_ name…  It went beyond my want to fuck him over and over and another round of taking him until I was completely satisfied.  He evoked in me something I’d never want of anyone else on this current Earth.  I wanted to hold him, embrace his body, to keep him right beside me where he belonged.  I pulled his waist, his shoulders toward me.  My skin felt so hot; I wanted to peel it off.  He did these things to me no one else did.

And he didn’t even know it.  If he did, he never acknowledged it.  It was better to think that he didn’t know; better for him and for me to just stay the way we were now.  Friends.

 

…

 

His reason for coming over on Sundays was never clear to me.  There was nothing for him which I could offer.

Sakurai Sho was the oldest son of a very nice family.  His parents were nice, liberal in thinking and supportive of their children.  His younger siblings were ‘normal’ – students who did well in school and had extracurricular and friends.  ‘Normal’.  Sho lived alone near the university we attended.  So in those regards, he was nothing like me.

A week divided into seven days was planned out for me by Sho.  He never demanded it; it just happened naturally.

I had classes from Monday through Thursday, part-time job at nights and an extra shift on Fridays so I can have Saturdays and Sundays free.  Saturdays, I slept in until the afternoon.  Then I got myself together to walk over to Sho’s apartment.  He made me dinner and we just talked of the same things like school or his Stardust.  Then I left to go to a bar or a club to find a one-night-partner, because otherwise, I would want more from Sho than I would regret.  I searched for pretty faces and empty headed ones who had a place of their own.  At first, it hadn’t mattered if it was my place or theirs.  But they all asked a lot of questions.  I guess they expected more to go with the package instead of an empty house and a mattress on the floor to get fucked.  So I made it a rule to never bring them home.  It was inconvenient if they didn’t leave by seven anyway.

And then Sunday came, when I rushed to get home.  Sho was with me the entire day.  From morning, he made breakfast of French toast and warmed milk.  Then he took a long nap until the afternoon.  I had nothing to do so I would study, sitting right beside him listening to his even breathing and the tiny noises of sleep.  But most of the time, I fell next to him to nap, too, from the week’s fatigue or the previous night’s guilty fuck without any of myself in it, because my heart only had enough room left for Sho.

But whatever it was, it was the perfect ending to a week.

When we woke up, it was the perfect beginning to another repetition.

I woke up but didn’t open my eyes.  I remained the way I was, wrapped up in Sho’s heat.  Sho would growl like a cat and whimper, scratching his nails against whatever was there (usually my skin) and come to his senses.  He just lay there on his side, and stared at me.

“Aiba kun~”  When he called me that way, my insides twisted.  “Masaki—“  My stomach churned.  “Masaki—“  My eyes felt dry under my closed lids.  My fingers itched to move over Sho’s skin.  My cock twitched in its confines.  “Masaki—“  My nerves were lit up.  My mouth ached to kiss those lips slowly chanting my name like that.  “Masaki… Wake up…”

That was my cue to slowly move, rub my eyes for moisture, to work my throat for air, anything else to get myself together.  And I opened my eyes to find Sho still lying on his side, his hair matted from sweat, and lips glossy and pouty.  The bright large eyes looked into mine, making the hardness in my jeans ache for attention.

“You’re so… cute… when you sleep…”

Sho would say something like that to startle me, to rile me up.  It took a lot of energy to stay still, to not touch him in the way I really wanted.

This particular afternoon, I ran my fingers through his soft hair.  I caressed his round cheek, the way I always wanted to.  Sho’s breaths got faster, his eyes blinking at me.  But I couldn’t do anything at all.  Nothing.  Sho kept staring at me, questioning silently on what I was doing to him…

So I just said, “I’m starving.”

He smiled and nodded in understanding.

 

…

 

One other reason Sho stayed over on Sundays (maybe the only one) was so that he could sit on my roof to watch the stars.  A flat plane jutted out from my bedroom window for the first floor entryway.  He climbed out unto that and lifted himself up over the incline of the tiled roof.  I called him an alley cat, so easily climbing surfaces.  Even though he assured me that he was safe, I followed him up anyway.  When nights were warm like tonight, he lay back and chattered on about the stars, the constellations, the properties of the gases and what space held which our naked eyes could not see.

It was everything I’d heard already about a thousand times.  But I listened anyway.  I liked Sho’s voice when he spoke so softly.  It reminded me of an old tune I’d heard when I was young played on the radio.  I never heard it again or could I remember the melody, but its feeling stayed with me.  Like being wrapped in a blanket of sounds made by an orchestra, of strings and woodwinds which made my stomach warm – such music was Sho’s voice.

Just then, the sky lit up, bright and my eyes were temporarily blind since I’d been staring at the dark sky for too long.  Few seconds later, the heavens boomed and crashed; the sound of cracking of a walnut amplified a million times inside my eardrums.  I had to physically pull Sho from his position and somehow managed to get him in through my bedroom window despite the narrowness of the ledge.  Just as I got in and slid the window shut, rain began to fall.

The drops were big, falling heavily over the shabby roof.  We sat on my mattress listening to the rain falling.

When it was close to midnight, Sho was ready to go home.  But the rain didn’t let up, and didn’t seem like it would any time soon.  So I grabbed his arm, perhaps a little too tightly and said, “Stay.”

“Aiba kun… I shouldn’t…”

“Stay.  You’ll drown out there.”

Sho laughed at my worried self, doubling over, hugging his stomach.

“If I do, you can save me with all the Stardust in that box there.”

Again…  With the Stardust thing…  So that was what the box contained…  Some stupid powder, the supposed Stardust…

I slammed his body against the closest wall.  My leg wedged in between his so that he couldn’t move or fight.  His thin wrists were in my hands, crushing them, grinding them into the drywall.  He angered me.  His stupid fucking Stardust angered me.  His pretty profile, the eyes turned from mine angered me.  Most of all, I was angry at myself for losing self-control—

I leaned in to kiss him.  All he did was squeeze his eyes shut.  He was trembling all over.  I could push harder – I could force his face to meet mine – I could tear off his clothes and shove him on to the bed and have my ways with him—

“Tell me to stop.  Tell me to stop, Sho—“

“…”

“Tell me to stop or... Stay.”

“Masaki, I—“

I barely heard his whisper before feeling his lips in my mouth.

   

…

  

We got off the subway together and walked towards the campus.  He smiled at me and we separated at the crosswalk.  I was trying very hard to smile back but only managed a twitch of my mouth.  He waved at me, saying he’ll be waiting at the cafeteria during lunch.

I turned and walked to my class.  In the large lecture hall, I sat in the back corner.  I didn’t take notes, only holding my pen loosely.  The professor went over the chapter in his monotone.  I wasn’t listening anyway.

Sho… couldn’t.

He let me touch him.  He let me kiss him.  He opened his mouth as wide as I wanted him to, to thrust my tongue in and lick, taste, bite the surfaces I longed to explore.  He let me dig my hands into his shirt, in his pants, and moaned – perhaps he thought I would like that.  But he didn’t get hard.  No matter how much I tried, he couldn’t get excited.  I wet my fingers and probed into him, and to my utter surprise, it wasn’t his first time, not even his second.  He only squeezed my arm tight when my fingers entered, but there was no resistance after the initial thrust.

In my head, I was screaming, You’ve played coy all this time, acting like you didn’t give a damn, but you’ve been fucked – fucked enough times to not even feel that…  But I just asked, ‘Do you like that?’ and rubbed the deep rooted spot in there.

And Sho answered, ‘No.’

‘Then why don’t you tell me to stop?’

‘Because…  It’s Masaki…  And…’

I wasn’t even angry.  I pulled my hands away from him, pushed myself up off from his half-naked trembling body, and slid on to the floor next to my disheveled mattress.  The rain kept falling, the thunder still close enough to make the earth shake.  I grabbed the cigarettes from where I’d tossed them before and lit one.

When that one burnt to the filter, I lit another.  And another.  The room was filled with yellow grey smoke.

‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’ I asked, my voice low in my throat.

‘I’m still thinking…’ Sho replied, his body curled up into a ball.

‘You’re thinking…’

‘Yes.’

At that, I rose and opened a window.  The rain splattered in, but it also brought fresh breeze into the room.  I leaned against the open window to breathe in the rain scented air.  The steady rhythm of rain made me feel a little better than I had been.

‘There are no stars tonight…’

Sho looked at me.  He looked through me.  He didn’t say anything, but stared.  I had to tell him.  I had to.

‘You’re so…  So fucking attractive…  You know that, Sho?  You make me feel—‘

‘I’m no good for you, Masaki.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’

‘I’m no good for you…’

He never explained what he meant.  He just turned away from me.  His naked back looked small and thin, shivering from the chill of the rain shrouded air.  I went back to the mattress, pulled the blanket over Sho’s body, lay back down next to him, but didn’t touch him.

In the morning, we didn’t exchange a single word.  Not until we were in the subway.  Sho stood against one of the railings, and he winced whenever he shifted from one leg to the other.  I had to ask.  ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’ He tried to convince me with a thin smile.  I thought maybe it was his knee which turned sore when the weather was humid.

‘Sit down,’ I told him when a salary-man got out at a stop.

‘No.  I’m fine.  Let someone else take it.’

The less he said, the more I knew.  My face felt hot from the knowledge.  I’d only pinned him down for a few minutes— There was no way—

When we were walking up the stairs, Sho didn’t climb his usual smooth gliding way.  He hissed when I touched his waist.  He didn’t say anything…  He only concentrated on walking until we had to separate at the crosswalk.

‘I’ll meet you at lunch.’

The same time, the same place, the same smile…

The professor announced for a quiz during next class, and encouraged all of us to participate more.  I spun my pen in my hand once, looking around for no particular reason.  That was when I saw the pair of eyes on me.  I smirked mostly out of habit.  The kid looked away but turned back, and smiled at me.  His jet black mob of hair almost covered the large deep-set eyes.  I liked his mouth, wide, and the clear row of teeth in his smile.

After half the class was up and out the exit, I got up, too, and wasn’t surprised to find him out in the hall waiting for me.  The voice wasn’t so drawn out anymore since he was wide awake and had a slight kansai accent.  In the daylight, he was just a good-looking, normal young man.  His messenger bag hung low on his side.  He was dressed like any of the other students here.

“You never called,” he said to me.  To anyone else, it probably sounded like a friend talking to another friend.  But there was the underlined meaning I had to pick up.

My lips turned up again.  “You never told me your name.”

The rules I had established for myself in those few years hopping gay bars and clubs and men was to never get involved.  Never take their names, never take their numbers.  Never remember faces.  Never spend more than one night together.  It was only sex.  Those were the rules…

“Nishikido Ryo.”

He followed me out to the back of the building where smoking was allowed.  My smoking had increased in the past few years upon meeting Sho.  I sat on the dirty curb, lighting one cigarette after another, with Nishikido sitting beside me.  The other students and a crumbling professor clicked their tongues at my continual chain smoking.  Soon, we were the only ones there.

“Do you ever smile without Sho kun around?” Nishikido asked.

“Suppose not.”

“And do you ever notice people other than Sho kun?”

“…Suppose not.”

“Saturday, I saw you walking out from the apartments where Sho lives.  It was a coincidence…  Lots of students live there.  I followed you to that club and approached you.  You didn’t know me.  We’ve been in the same three classes in the past two years.  I couldn’t believe you didn’t even know my face.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you?  I’m not.”

“Listen.  I’m not…  Relationship material.”

“You don’t know that.  Aren’t you already in a relationship with Sho kun?”

“Fuck you.  Don’t act like you know anything about me and especially Sho.”

“We went to the same high school.”

Nishikido stretched his arms above his head, his tee shirt climbing up to reveal skin.  I dropped the cigarette butt to the ground.  He didn’t say a word about it.  He just stared at my face for a reaction.  I got up and walked away.  He didn’t follow me, nor had I wanted him to.  The same high school…  So he knew something about Sho that I didn’t.  He was just acting, like on Saturday, when he didn’t tell me that he knew me and Sho.  Even if they went to the same high school, it didn’t mean they knew each other.  If Sho had a friend in this place, he would have told me like usual.  This kid suddenly turns up and pretends to know anything about us, well, he didn’t.  It was a high bluff.

I headed for the cafeteria alone and took a table in the corner.  I waited two hours but Sho didn’t show up.  I couldn’t call because he may have been stuck in Lab.  Maybe he got sick or he was in too much pain…  My mind ran a thousand circumstances which kept Sho from me, even if there was only one answer.  I already knew what it was.  But I would wait here forever if that was what it took…

The phone in my pocket vibrated.  I picked it up without even looking at the caller ID screen.

“Sho chan?”

“No.  It’s Nishikido.”

“…”

“He’s not coming.”

“What the hell—“

“Notice me, would you?  I’ve been sitting here watching and waiting for as long as you’ve been there.”

I looked up and around then.  And there he was.  I hung up the phone, shoving it back in my pocket.  I let him walk over and sit in the chair that I’d been saving for Sho.  He stared at me whilst I kept my eyes on the door.  Nishikido or anyone else could fade away as long as Sho was here.

Sho was the one steady thing left in my life.

It may have looked as though he needed me.  In reality, I needed him, to fit into the normalcy of this world.  Without him, I would stray.  I would never do anything considered to be usual – I wouldn’t be in this building – I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed in the morning.  Sho knew that.  Despite all his nonsense, he knew better than anyone that I needed him.  He was my friend – my only friend – because everyone else could not fit into my mould, my mind, my mind set, not anymore.

While I was panicking in my dire need for Sho chan, Nishikido slid a photograph toward me.  It snapped me out of my thoughts.  I didn’t want to look, but it was practically shoved in my face.  Fuck off, I wanted to say, but I lost all the nerves.

It was Sho.  He was in a regulatory high school uniform but smiling.  He never smiled like that, ever.  But he was smiling in this photo, like a normal youth, like he was really very happy.  Beside him was Nishikido in the same uniform, with his arm thrown over Sho’s shoulder.  On the other side of Sho was another boy, taller, long black hair with dark eyes, and utterly handsome.

I handed the photo back.  I got up from the chair and ran out of the building, out of the campus.  I ran straight to my house.  I needed the burning acidic sensation in my muscles to tell me I wasn’t dreaming.

They were holding hands.

Rain was falling hard.

_I’m no good for you, Masaki._

Rain soaked into my skin, made my eyes water.

Sho was smiling like he was in love.

_I’m no good for you…_  

My legs slowed down but my heart was beating faster.

They were holding hands, fingers entwined together.

The muscles in my legs felt stretched and sore.  My skin was drenched and shaking from the sudden exercise. 

_They’re magic…_

His fucking Stardust, his sweet whispers, the smooth heat of his skin, the softness of his hair, his bright eyes under the dark sky, his fingers against my flesh, his name, the rhythm of his heart beating, everything… 

They all stopped meaning anything to me at that moment.

 

…

 

I didn’t see Sho for the entire week.  I didn’t wait where I always did.  I had his schedule memorized.  I would always wait in front of his building.  Instead, I went everywhere, anywhere I knew he wouldn’t be.  There was nothing else to do really, other than sit inside the library in the afternoons.  It rained all week.  I studied for the first time in a while.  It wasn’t ‘sitting there watching Sho study’.  It was me, reading the chapters I’ve neglected and finding things interesting.

On Thursday, I found myself walking towards Sho’s apartment.  I turned around and headed home.  While waiting on the subway platform, a guy tapped my shoulder.  I didn’t recognize him.

“Excuse me, you’re Aiba san, right?”  I was going to say, I’m not interested…  “We met once.  I’m in a few classes with Sakurai kun.”

“Is that right?”

“I was asked to stop by his place by his advisor and a few professors.  Apparently, he’s been missing all his classes this entire week.  And since Aiba san seemed so close to Sakurai kun—  Well, we all thought it odd…  He never misses class.”

“I know… He…  Sho is…”  I didn’t know.  “He’s…  He’s sick.  After that rainstorm last weekend, he caught a cold.  A flu.”

“Oh no!  That’s too bad!  I should—“

“No.  I was…  I’m on my way to…  To pick up medicine for him.  I was just with him.”

“He’s very lucky, then, to have such a kind friend like Aiba san.  That’s what we all say.  We’re sort of all jealous.”

My radar went off full strength then.  I could easily read this kid’s flirtation and his eyes becoming wide, mouth smiling cautiously.  He wasn’t used to trying seducing anyone, I could tell.  He was using tactics like everyone else, what they thought worked, stuff they picked up from movies and TV dramas.  It never worked.  It was a turn-off.  The only person who got me was Sho.  His small, sad face; His pale soft skin; His laughter; His tearful eyes;  Even his secrets, his goddamn Stardust—

“Oh, shit –  The pharmacy will close if I don’t hurry.  I should just walk there.  See ya—“

I went up to his apartment, banged on the door.  I didn’t know if he was home.  I prepared to call him, break the door down, trek him down to the end of the world to find him.

The door opened slowly.

“Masaki—“

Sho’s tiny voice made my heart sink.  I pulled him into a tight embrace.  Heat overwhelmed my skin.  I let him go.

“You’re burning up—“

“What are you doing here?”

“Have you been sick—?“

“What are you doing here…?”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“What are you—“

I had to practically shove him in and into his bed.  I made him drink water and found a clean towel to wrap ice with for his forehead.  There was stuff all over like empty take-out boxes (thankfully he’d eaten), water bottles, tissues…

I tidied up while the rice cooker steamed fresh rice.  There was enough miso to make one bowl.  I looked through the medicine box, discovering a bottle of fever reducers, the expiration date only a few weeks away.  Sho ate when I told him to and drank down the medicine afterwards.  I got the extra blanket from his closet to put over him.

Sho kept his eyes on me the entire time, his lips parted, hard of breath.  When he was all tucked in, I checked his temperature.

“Fever’s gone down a bit.”

“Masaki,” his voice was hoarse.

“Try to get some sleep.  I’ll email your professors.  Where’re your syllabuses?”

I sat on the edge of his mattress where his torso and drawn up knees made a little curved nook.  The room felt hot, probably because I’d been running around the tiny studio, maybe from the extra heat Sho’s sick body was emanating.  I had to put my hands on either sides of his body.

“Why don’t you hate me, Masaki?”

“What do you mean?”

He kept his eyes on me, though they were heavy from the medication.

“On Sunday…  You smelled like… something, someone…  I couldn’t figure it out…  When Masaki was sleeping…  I stayed awake thinking about that…  Scent…  That perfume…  And…”

His eyes swelled up.

“Ryo chan…  You smelled like Ryo chan.”

So…  He did know about it all…

“I never thought I could fall in love with anyone ever again.  Because I’m a horrible person…  I didn’t deserve to be loved…  I didn't want Masaki to find out…  Masaki should just hate me…  I wish Masaki would just hate me…”

From the fever and medication, Sho didn’t make any sense.

“Why would I hate you?  I love you…”  But my voice barely came out, and Sho had fallen asleep by then.

I curled up next to him on the small mattress, holding him tight.  I thought from that moment, _I will never let him go_ …

 

…

 

In the morning, I woke up in a strange room.  The first word should have been _Fuck,_ but I saw Sho, remembered where I was and only adjusted my blood-deprived arm.

Sho was snoring lightly, breathing easier.  It was a little after eight.  I called my part-time to let them know I couldn’t make it this week because of an emergency.  I called school forwarding the messages about Sho.  I made sure he was still sleeping before running out to the corner store.  It wasn’t Sunday, but I bought ingredients for French toast and a carton of milk.  The pharmacy opened at nine so I had to wait a few minutes by the locked gate.

I brought the cigarette to my mouth, watching small children with their large bags, a boy and girl holding hands on their way to school in uniform, a young woman in a suit jacket running in her high heels towards the bus stop, housewives heading to the open market with baskets.  The sky was bright blue like the past continuous days of rain had all been a lie.  The track jacket I was wearing felt extra warm, but I waited patiently.

The pharmacist looked at me questioningly as he unlocked the gate.  He asked me to wait just a little while he punched in the security code to disarm it.  I said take your time and finished another cigarette before he came out in his white-coat.  His face relaxed when I only asked for fever reducers.  He probably got a lot of people coming in the morning, angry, that their loved ones were not receiving necessary medications as soon as possible because of the pharmacy’s business hours.  I only described Sho’s symptoms and the pills I gave him last night.  Temperature this morning was lower than last night but still higher than normal.  The pharmacist smiled, deducing the sickness as a bad flu and gave me the recommended pills and instructions.

“Is it your wife or girlfriend, who is sick?”

“No… It’s a friend.”

“Must be a very close friend.”

“Yes…  Very.”

He smiled at me knowingly.  “Hot tea or water if there is coughing.  Some honey if he has a sore throat.”

“How about warmed milk?  He likes milk.”

“That’s good, too.”

I thanked him, apologizing for my early arrival.  He gave me a box of herbal tea for my wait.

When I returned, Sho was sitting up in his bed.  He looked troubled like he hadn’t expected to see me again, like whatever nonsensical words he’d said last night had their effects and that I was gone forever.  He stared at me as I deposited the bags of stuff I purchased on the kitchen counter.  He watched me come closer.  I took his temperature again and let out a sigh of relief.

“Are you hungry?  I’m going to make some French toast.  They won’t be as good as when you make them, but I’ll try.”

Sho nodded.

I busied myself with the task of breaking eggs, mixing in the milk and sugar, and pan-frying the soaked bread without burning any of them.  It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be but the result wasn’t what I was used to every Sunday morning.  We sat on the small table on the floor to eat.  It wasn’t horrible and Sho ate all his portions.  I made the herbal tea and sat down again when the dishes were done.

“The box…” I began.  “I wanted to open it.”  I wasn’t going to ask about why he wanted me to hate him or why he thought he wasn’t good for me.  It didn’t matter.  I wanted Sho to be with me always.

“But I didn’t open it.  I saw your post-it.”

“Masaki—“

“Hmm?”

“Stardust…  You can open it if you have to.”

“It’s okay.  I don’t have to know.  It doesn’t matter what’s there.  I love you anyway.  I love Sho chan, not by what you are or were.  I love Sho chan because I—“

“Don’t love me, Masaki.”

I looked into his eyes.

“Don’t be in love with me…”

He looked into mine.

“Did Ryo chan tell you who the boy is?”

I shook my head.

“He—Me and Ryo chan and—“

“I don’t want to know.”  I dismissed it.  My blood was boiling again.  I didn’t want to hear about his past, so I cut him off and turned away.  I was in this now, this moment, with Sho and that was all I needed.  I didn’t have to know.

Sho nodded and sipped the tea.

I made him take more medicine and tucked him into bed.

“Sleep, alright?  I’m going to go home and get some clean clothes.  I’ll return in a few hours.”

I put on my jacket and picked up my bag.  After tying the laces to my sneakers, I turned and waved at Sho.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Masaki—“

“Hmm?”

“You should open the box.”

 

…

 

I showered quickly and put on some clean clothes.  I had plugged my cellular phone to the charger before showering.  I checked it to make sure Sho hadn’t called in emergency.  There was a missed call.

A number I didn’t recognize.

I dialed it and put the phone to my ear.

“Aiba kun?” He answered at the first ring.  “This is Nishikido.”

I stayed silent.

“Don’t hang up.  Please just listen.  Sho chan… blames himself for what happened, but none of it’s true.  It was something that he had been suffering from…  Sho chan thinks he jumped because of him, but it wasn’t that.  Sho has to realize that.  I tried but he only avoids me.  He acts like it never happened, he just smiles at me.  It’s painful, for both of us, but he has to see that it happened.  He also has to realize it wasn’t his fault.  Only you can help him, Aiba kun.”

“I can’t do that.”

“He believes you’re special.  That’s why you can help.”

I hung up the phone.

I dug the box out from behind my mattress.  I opened it, ignoring the post-it inside.  There was a large box with a lid, made with heavy dark wood.  I’d seen a box like this before when I had received my younger brother’s ashes after the cremation.  It was a dreadful thing to give to a friend to hold.  But it wasn’t as heavy as I presumed it would be, not the way I remembered it.  Sho had wanted me to open the box.  I was sure he meant this one.

At the bottom of the cardboard beneath the wooden box was a notebook.  It was rather tattered, the corners and edges all worn out.

I picked it up.  A piece of paper fell down from it.  I picked it up, knowing what it was before I saw it.  It was the same photo Nishikido had shown me.  I flipped the cover of the notebook.

‘Day 1.  They told me, if I make a thousand stars, any wish can come true.  So I’ll make a thousand stars so you can come back to me.  Where have you gone to?’

‘Day 2.  Your parents gave me this box.  They asked me to be the one to take it to the funeral.  But it’s only a lie, isn’t it?  Who’s dead?’

‘Day 3.  Everyone was crying at this funeral.  Your picture was there behind all the flowers.  I made another star.’

‘Day 4.  I got the box back, full of powder and dust.  What have I done to receive this box?  I made another star.  I hope you come back to me.’

‘Day 5.  Ryo chan took me to the hill where we used to watch the stars at night.  We took handfuls of dust and let the wind sweep it away from our hands.  Ryo chan cried so much when all the dust was gone.  Today, I made a star for Ryo chan.  He must miss you as much as I do.  Where ever you are, come back to me.’

‘Day 6.  I made another star.  I put them in this box.  Stardust.  Maybe you’ll come back when this box is full.’

‘Day 7…’

I skipped several pages in this diary.

‘Day 257.  I went up to the hill.  I can’t see any stars without you.  Come back…  Please come back…’

‘Day 416.  Masaki smiled at me.  I told him about Stardust.  He doesn’t know and thinks it’s a joke.  Maybe it is.  Maybe this won’t work.’

‘Day 417.  Ryo chan found me at school and asked me why I didn’t come to your parent’s house for the one-year memorial.  I ran away and met Masaki.  I feel safe with him.’

‘Day 537.  I want to kiss someone else other than you.  The box is half-full.  I’m starting to wonder if you’ll come back.’

‘Day 655.  We watched the stars together.  They were so bright.  I wonder if you’ll come back…  I can watch stars without you.  That saddens me the most…’

‘Day 871.  I’m scared that if Masaki ever found out about the truth, and he would hate me for that.  So come back and don’t be dead anymore.  Come back and tell me it never happened.’

I turned to the last page, unable to keep at reading Sho’s small neat tearful handwritings.

‘Day 999.  If I make one more star, you can come back, right?  You’ve been gone for a thousand days…  But…  I want to be with Masaki.  I want to tell him the truth about me…  About you…  I wonder if he would hate me because it was my fault.  It was my fault you jumped…  If I love Masaki, then the same thing might happen to him…  And I don’t want that…  And…  I want to tell him the truth—‘

The truth…

 

…

 

The truth…

 

Dad was working temporarily in a different prefecture when our high school team made it to the regional championship.  Mom and my brother sat on the bleachers, I knew.  I was wondering if Dad could watch the local broadcast.

 

The truth was that…

 

It was the bottom of the seventh inning.  We were losing by two, one on first and third, with two outs.  I was next to bat.  The opponent’s second right-hand pitcher was already tired.  I wondered why he wasn’t switched out.  I let the first pitch through.  Strike one.

 

The truth was that I was scared.

 

Strike two.

 

I was scared to let my team down.

 

Ball.

 

I was scared to disappoint my family, my friends, my team.

 

I slammed my left foot, wedged it, swung.

 

I ran as fast as I could.

 

It was a high fly-ball, just how high and how far I didn’t know.  I just ran.  When my foot hit first base, I ran on.  Second and then third.  The base coach there kept shouting for me to run on.  I ran some more.  I took home without trouble.  It was a home-run.

 

The truth was that there was nothing else on my mind when I ran down from third to home.

 

The truth was that all I could think about was the scout from my dream college watching me hit a three-run homerun.

 

Even though the game hadn’t ended yet, my teammates were barely stopped from rushing the field.  Everyone cheered.  We now had the lead by one.  Even if we lost, I knew I was going to be scouted to play college ball.

 

The truth was, I hadn’t known Dad had come all the way here just for one night to watch me play.

 

We were still winning with no scores made by either team, until the bottom of the ninth.  I didn’t have a chance to bat again but we won.  My ears were numb from the cheers.  In front of the locker room, Coach and the scout stopped me to say I played well today.  The scout asked me to come by the college with Coach the week after to see the team practice and we were to talk there about the details of playing college ball.

 

Our team went to our usual restaurant to celebrate.  We were all so hyped up.

 

The truth was there was a message on my phone from my brother about Dad coming home to watch me play.  They would be at home waiting.

 

The truth was I thought rather selfishly that they can wait a few more hours.

 

As we were leaving, rain started to fall.  When we were finished dinner and boarding the bus, rain was falling so much it hurt when it hit our faces.  At school, we put all our equipment away and I got a ride from a friend’s parents.  At home, the lights weren’t on and the car wasn’t there.  I called my brother’s phone.  A stranger answered telling me it was the hospital.

 

I ran into the rain.

 

The truth was, if I had gotten to the hospital only thirty minutes faster, I could have said goodbye to Dad...  Forty minutes faster, I could have told my brother that I love him...  If I had gotten to Mom right after the game, I could have told her, that I was sorry for all the things I've done that have hurt her...

 

It was only natural to blame myself.

 

If it hadn’t been for me, Dad wouldn’t have been driving in the rain.

 

If it hadn’t been for me, Mom and brother would have been home.

 

If it hadn’t been for me, and my need to stay with the scout, the team, I would have gone home with them.

 

The rain would always hurt the deepest part of my heart.

 

The truth was…

 

The truth was…

 

The truth is…  If my family could come back by making and praying and unreasonably hoping in a thousand stars, I would make a thousand more, again and again, for the one chance to say _I love you_ …  To ask them if they are proud of me…  To ask if they forgive me…

 

…

  

‘The truth is…  I only want to see you one more time, only to tell you I loved you then and I love you now, but I’ve grown up, too…  And after a thousand stars, I found that I can love someone else…  So if I can see you again…  I want to ask you if it’s alright to love Masaki…  And if we can stay friends…’

The wooden box which had once held the ashes of his loved one now held 999 little paper stars, each tightly folded into little fears, tears, hopes and dreams of a single wish…  For the truth…

  

…

  

We both needed one phrase…  It wasn’t from a friend or relative or anyone else…  It needed to come from deep inside where it hurt the most…  Like a whisper of a voice somewhat resembling the ones we’ve lost…

It isn’t your fault…  Because I love you…  And I am so proud of who you are now and always…

  

…

   

The weather was so cold.  We put on our coats and hats, gloves and scarves.  Winter made the sky clearer, darker, and the stars flickering intense even the light years away where we’ll never physically reach.

Unless we dreamed of it.

“Look, Masaki.  That’s Cassiopeia.  And there, Andromeda.  Have I told you the story of Perseus and his rescue of Princess Andromeda?”

“Yes.  But tell it to me again.”

His small mouth moved in pouts and whispers, his warm breath making huffs of white as he told me the story.  Sho knew I wasn’t really listening, but he talked on because there was nothing else to do.

  

That day when I finally got back to Sho chan’s, he’d become worried.  I showed up with his Stardust and tears in my eyes.  I held him so tight until the room turned black.  I’d told him something stupid like I never wanted to let him go.

Soon, Sho moved into my house.  It began filling up with small knickknacks of furniture.  Warmth of Sho’s smile filled the house.

I went to visit the school’s baseball team with Sho.  A few of my high school teammates were there.  The scout who was an assistant coach remembered me well and the situation.  But I didn’t want to play – there was no way I could.  I hadn’t touched a baseball for the past three years.  If there was anything I could help with, I wanted to volunteer.  He set me up with a batting coach position at the college’s high school team.  At the practice, I took the wooden bat.  I almost fell to weeping.  I stepped up to the plate.  Because I hadn’t practiced in so long, I only managed a right-fly, and it was by an easy pitch.  The team even let me run through.  I jogged from third to home.  I couldn’t see straight from the tears.

And Sho chan was there a few meters behind the home plate…

Sho finished making the final star.  It took a while for him to try.  It was some time in the late fall.  He dug the box out from under the mattress (we had a proper bed now) and he sat on the floor, reading his journal from the beginning to the last.  I sat against the wall just watching him because he held me there to be near him in every moment of his painful days.

He wrote into it, closed it, put it back into the bottom of the cardboard box.  He made a star, his fingers working slowly and neatly.  When it was done, he placed it in the wooden box.  The cardboard box was sealed with tape.  He got up from the floor and put on his coat.  I did the same and we went out into the sunset.  I walked as slowly as he was and as quietly.  We walked a long way into the darkness and up a hill, reaching a grassy open area, covered in foliage.

Out of his red backpack, he got out a small shovel.  He began to dig the ground.  The soil was hard and difficult to dig with the small gardening shovel.  But I had to watch him.  It was something Sho had to do by himself, like running home on my own two feet.  The only thing I could help with was give him the pair of gloves from my pocket.

He buried his Stardust there on the hill where his precious memories had been made, where he’d lost his first love and where the ashes were spread.  I didn’t ask about his last star.  It was now buried into the ground.

We held hands on our way back home.

Sho met with Nishikido and he said they talked for a long time.  Ryo called me to thank me for helping Sho – but I said, I didn’t do anything.

‘You stood by him through it all.  That was what he needed – I couldn’t do that – someone to understand him even if he couldn’t say anything…  Someone he could love…’

  

“So the gods put her image there into the stars…”

I looked up to where he was pointing.  They flickered silently in the deep black sky, aligned in the way they have been for all the years, heeding to our wishes for some kind of sign that we weren’t alone, that we were alive and breathing, and all the things that have happened was not our fault, nor theirs…

“Some people thought the stars reflect ourselves, whenever we need them, they shine brightly…  Like when I met Masaki for the first time, I needed someone who could be my star…” Sho sniffed, from what he couldn’t say, or perhaps from the cold.  “They’re so bright tonight.  So close…  Like I can touch them if I reached out…”

I pulled him to me and kiss him, because there was nothing else I could do.

And then, I whispered, “They really were magic…  Your Stardust…”

Sho chan looked into my eyes, tears forming, a smile breaking out through, but was the brightest star I could see through my blurred vision.

 

  

Stay with me…  Right here where you belong…  Always…

 

  

  

   .End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I used to be an asshole and never labeled possible triggers~~  
>  But I will mention them here as cautions:  
> \- background/minor character in Sho's past dies of suicide, no name  
> \- parents/family death in car accident  
> \- depression and post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms for both main characters  
> \- not clearly defined as consensual sex - this is in first person pov, and it might sound more dubious consent than oh-yeah-go-for-it. please note that 1stP-POV is a little 'limited POV' ("unreliable narrator") which I use A LOT (hoho) and can be a little bit 'dubious' so... just blame my bad skills.
> 
> I edited some spelling and grammar mistakes as I post to AO3. I wrote this... (jesus!) around 6 years ago so yeah... I (hope) my writing skill/style have improved a little and it's getting embarrassing to post these up now. Oh geez. And... Yes. I still suck at summaries. :D
> 
> Thanks! Leave me love.


	2. A Lost Alley-Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's Note at the end notes.
> 
> This one is retelling of 'Stardust' from Sho's POV, filling in about the things Aiba wouldn't know about. :)

Stardust – A Lost Alley-cat

 

 

Our problem was that you couldn’t see – even in that moment when I told you I didn’t want to love you anymore – that inside my heart was nothing but love for you.

 

You were the one who started my heart, opened it up to a thing called love which has hurt me so much since.  My heart was glad, and I assumed it to being happy.  Like Ryo chan said to me, you must really be in Love; I was sure I was.  And it made you miserable.  Miserable – because you wanted me with you, but you didn’t love me like I loved you.  I was nonetheless grateful that you tried over and over to make me happy.  I’m sure it hurt you more that you only thought of me as a friend.

But you should have let me know of that before you took me, my body and my heart.  You should have let me know before you suddenly disappeared from my life.  I broke it off for you; because I knew better than anyone in the world that you couldn’t love me, a boy, no matter how hard you tried.  I know it now; I’m learning as I live my life, I think about your reactions when I said a certain thing, comparing to my current love, and equating that to the truth that you couldn’t love me.  The fury you threw at me didn’t make sense then – it makes sense now.  I cried because I thought us friends above all else, that we’d continue to be friends no matter what, not because I was frightened of you.  I said we should end our relationship so you can be free, so we could stay in each other’s lives.  Your last cowardly action after the frustratingly elongated series of keeping me at an arm’s length broke my heart; you should have told me the truth before you jumped, or stayed to hear mine.

 

 

I wanted to tell you the truth.  I love you.  I love you as a friend.  I love you as you are.  I love you as a man I would want to spend my life with, even just as friends.  I love you enough to push you away from me.

I don’t love you enough to cling on to you with all I have.  That truth I am saving to tell you on the thousandth day since you’ve been gone.  I am saving that one for the moment I can let you go from my heart.

I was going to tell you the truth.  Then I saw you splattered on the cold cement ground.  I didn’t want you gone without knowing the truth.

I wished you would come back, in a dream; an apparition would have sufficed.  But you came back as dust in a heavy box.  I cried for the truth I haven’t had a chance to tell you.

 

 

The days passed so easily without you.  I thought in my youth I would die if I didn’t have your presence in my life, but I was living on.  I particularly missed you that day.  The sun shone down on me, blinding me as I wondered around aimlessly through the still-unfamiliar campus.  It’s the campus you, Ryo chan and I chose together, took exams for, promised the three of us would go together.  You broke your promise.  Ryo chan asked me to meet him and I didn’t give him an answer.  I didn’t want to meet him because there was supposed to be the three of us, not two.

I looked up into the clear blue sky.  The air stirred around me gently sifting the branches of trees, the fresh green leaves, winding through my hair like your fingers.  A blurred figure emerged in my light-blinded vision.  I thought it was you; I had wished for it, and you had come back to me.

He talked to me in a tone that made me feel the calm.  I couldn’t tear my eyes off of him.  His subtle scent and the way he pushed his hair back with his hand reminded me of you, though his wasn’t cologne and his hair was shorter.  His smile was false; it startled me to see such a forged smile.  I knew at that moment he wasn’t you.  He was handsome but dark.  The darkness was a shadow that fell over him, and my heart felt a chill.  Though his smile was false, his eyes were deep.  There was pain in there, I couldn’t be certain of what.  The pain was buried in as deep if not deeper than mine.

He took me home.  I went so I wouldn’t have to see Ryo chan.  I didn’t even know his name but I stepped inside his cold house.  He looked so much like you when he walked ahead of me, looking down at the ground, avoiding other people passing by.  It was empty as if he had just recently moved in there.  I didn’t question him because mostly I did not care about the exact reason why he lived in such an empty house.  I just followed him up to his room.  That was almost void of anything but a mattress on the floor and some books.  It wasn’t what I expected.  I was hoping he would be like you.  Your room was full of junk, the posters of star charts and the paper star cut outs we made put on your walls.

No stars here.  I looked for one all over the room.  He threw down his bag, his jacket and then his shirt.  He sat on the mattress and lit a cigarette.  I knew what he wanted then.  I didn’t want anonymous sex as much as you didn’t want sex with a friend.  I didn’t ask for his name.  I just gave him mine.  “I’m Sakurai Sho.”

He looked at my face and gave me a sneer.  I put my bag down and sat by his stretched out leg.

“Aiba Masaki—“ He said in a different voice.  The new voice he spoke his name with contained a hint of chill I saw in his fake smile.  The voice he used before was sticky sweet; I hadn’t thought he was trying to pick me up for sex.  I was in despair because I thought of it too late.  I was angry at myself for the late knowledge.  I was embarrassed because I couldn’t stop staring at his bared torso and the packed muscles under his skin.  An image of you flashed before my eyes.  I tried to get up and leave.

“I told you my name, brought you home, and you’re just going to leave?” He grabbed my wrist so tight I thought my bones would crush.  It hurt.  I bit my lip.  Whenever there was something I couldn’t bring myself to say to you, I would bite down on my lip; Do you remember that?  No…  You never noticed…

“Sorry—“ He let my arm go.

He noticed it.  Like he noticed me out of the hundreds of people, he noticed even the little change on my face.  That was why I stayed.  He made me feel I didn’t have to try so hard to fit in when all I felt in me was pain I didn’t know how to start to measure.  I felt like I wouldn’t mind if he pushed me into the mattress right then.  But the pressure was gone from his face.  He turned away from me as if to dismiss me, to leave him.  I wanted to stay.  He drew me into him, because he was so different from you.

“Are there any stars in your room?”

He smiled at that and shook his head.  He got up suddenly and searched his closet to indulge me.  I watched his back, the movement of all the muscles in there, the fair skin, the way his back bent and the shoulder blades moved.  You’d often turned your back to me.  I couldn’t ever be certain you’d turn back around to look at me; I stared at you until you did and smiled for you.  He turned back to me.  I think I felt it certain at that moment; he – Aiba Masaki – would turn back to me, to find me if I called to him, and I would do the same.

“A star…  Three, actually.”

I wasn’t happy that he found me stars.  I was happy he turned to me again.  He handed me a dust covered gilded trophy, a faceless boy holding a baseball bat bolted at the very top.  It stood tall and should have been out for all to see, not stuck in his closet to collect dust.  The pedestal had a plaque carved with his name, three perfectly proportioned stars above a design, and a description about a new batting average record…  I think I looked at him with a smile.

The sun had set and the sky had turned burning crimson fading to shades of bluish gray.  “I can find more stars—“

I opened the window.  It was large enough to climb out of.  A short ledge under it connected the side of the house to the lower roof.  It was manageable for footing, so I went out, unheeding his warnings.  I was scared to fall; it made my heart race.  I sidestepped until I reached the inclining roof, climbed onto it easily.  Aiba kun followed me.  He had pulled on a track jacket over his bared torso, the chest stitched with a high school emblem and the baseball team name.  I waited for him to reach the top beside me.

“What are you, an alley cat?” he teased.  I lay down with my hands beneath my head.  He did, too; a light sigh escaped his throat.  We lay together silently on the cooling roof tiles.  Cars honked from the larger streets below.  Children’s voices disappeared as they returned home for the evening.  Night critters began their routines, calling each other with their unique sounds, hidden in the darkness against any harm.

I waited for the sky to turn completely black.  I searched.  Perhaps clouds obscured the view.  “Where are all the stars?”

“This is the middle of Tokyo—“ he said, but the words were harmless.

I turned to look at this man, a stranger who reminded me of you so much yet each new minute told me he was nothing like you.  He looked into me, too, like I knew he would.  Then I saw the stars.

In your eyes there had been none.  You searched for them as well, in me, in the world around, in the far away sky and infinite space.  You left me for these stars.  You even took the ones in me.  I make one for each day you’ve been gone, to replace the bright ones you took with you.  I found them in his eyes, beautiful, sparkling, and wretched.

I didn’t tell him, of course, but wanted so much to keep seeing them.  Every time those eyes looked at me, I didn’t think about you.  That became my solace and my sanctuary where I was mine; my own.

 

 

I found him again, and I knew it then.  He looked at me as if he didn’t remember me, but I knew he didn’t forget.  I sat beside him in the small classroom.  Everyone was looking at Aiba kun.  He smiled only at me.

I liked _me_ when I was with him.  I can’t recall if I liked me when I was with you.  Your presence made me happy, yes, and with Ryo chan, we had lots of fun.  I liked not having to pretend I needed to hide my sorrow.  Of course I was sad you weren’t with me.  But you weren’t with me.  I liked being beside someone who didn’t know my past.  And…  Besides that, I liked him having me beside him.  I still like the way Aiba kun holds me with all he is, with his eyes, with his arms, and only me.

I am selfish like this.  I know that I am.  I wanted you to be the one person I can claim is mine, and you took that from me.  I wanted Aiba kun to love me as I was, as I am now.  Yes.  Love.  I wanted this beautiful, wonderful man as my own; no one else’s.  I knew he wouldn’t take me to bed.  I knew he took others in his arms, but he always turned back to me.  I found out he took Ryo chan the way he wouldn’t take me.  I pushed him away, like I pushed you away, knowing full well he would turn back to me, unlike you.  I wanted him to love me…  I wanted to be loved…  I am selfish like this.

He would watch the stars with me.  I learned about the stars from you upon that hill.  I cared about you as much as you cared about the stars.  I knew Aiba kun cared about me as much as he didn’t care about stars.  In truth, all I liked was being next to him away from everything on that roof top.  He watched me.  That was important.  Nothing else.  It could be cloudy without a speck of light shining up there.  I had my stars I could claim to be mine in those vast dark pools of his eyes.

Each part of myself I lost with you, I made the small stars to fill their spaces.  Stardust was made each day to remind me of you.  At first, I prayed you would come back to listen to my confessions.  Then seasons changed again and again, and each Stardust helped me remember you.  You were fading faster than the seasons; I couldn’t believe that.  I didn’t want to forget you, that is a truth.  And then I learned that in all the empty spaces you created in me was filled with something completely new.  That is Aiba kun.  I even began to think, maybe I didn’t have to make Stardust anymore.

In the 999th day since you died (yes, I’ve always known you were dead) I stopped.  I was afraid if Aiba kun found out my horrible past, he would leave me.  It would be the one thing to make him not turn around to me, and that would break my heart.  I fell in love with him.  I didn’t want him to know.  I fell in love with the starry sparkles in his eyes.  I fell in love with him because he is strong enough to hold me, not leave me.  I fell in love with him because he isn’t you.  I fell in love with him because you are not here.  I fell in love with him the moment I woke in his arms after all I said and did to push him away.  I fell in love with him because he loved me still even after he found out the truth.  I fell in love with him more and more because I became the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.  I wanted him to know, because the wickedest part of me wanted to test him.  I am so selfish like that.  I fell in love with him because he loves even that part of me.

I am selfish for wanting happiness.  You are much more selfish for deserting me out of cowardice, leaving me with nothing but a single wish.

 

 

In the thousand stars, I wished not for your return.  I wished you would rest peacefully; I never gave you that.  I thanked you for giving me time to find out the truth about us, about me…

I am still alive and even with all the mistakes I don’t want to remember, I deserve to be loved and be happy.  Masaki taught me that.

I bury the last memento I have of you on the hill where I gave you my love.  I will not come back.

 _Sho chan_ , he calls out to me.  He envelops me with his love, with his voice, with his existence.

Masaki, I call back.  His eyes trap me among his stars.  I am not lost anymore, living among my stars…

 

 

 

-the end-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Original Author's Note: Request by sweetdreaming13 san, for a prequel to the one-shot "Stardust" about how Sho fell in love with Masaki._  
>  This one was a challenge since I wrote 'Stardust' and ended it, didn't want to think much about it cuz it was really hard to write (emotionally). I also challenged myself to write in 2nd Person POV, which is rarely done, even by novelists. One notable 2nd-P POV novel is "Diary" by ChucK Palahniuk (2nd Person POV is characterized by the pronoun use of "you" outside of dialogues) where the main character's story is told to her comatose husband. In this case, I thought appropriate... I don't know if the request has been satisfied. But I can't say I didn't try. :)  
> Thank you for the request. It was challenging which is most enjoyeable as a writer (even if it's only fanfiction). :)  
> There are lots and lots and lots and lots of angst. :) Douzo  
> \--------------
> 
> Thanks! Feel free to leave me comments for anything else from the deleted comm here or at my tumblr (coveryourheads.tumblr(.)com)!


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